Selected Cronicas

EAT UP, EAT UP

I do not know what happens in other people’s homes. In mine, everybody talks about food. ‘Is that cheese yours?’ ‘No, help yourself.’ ‘Is the cereal good?’ ‘Excellent!’ ‘Mummy, ask the cook to make a prawn cocktail. I can show her.’ ‘When did you learn to make a prawn cocktail?’ ‘I’ve eaten them lots of times and I know how they’re made.’ ‘Today all I want to eat is a plate of pea soup and some sardines.’ ‘This meat is much too salty.’ ‘I don’t feel hungry, but if you buy some peppers, I’ll eat those.’ ‘No, Mummy, eating out in restaurants costs a lot of money. I’d rather eat at home.’ ‘What’s for dinner this evening?’

No, my house is not metaphysical. No one is overfed in this house but everybody likes to eat well. As for me, I spend all my time opening and closing my purse to hand out money for yet more shopping. ‘I’m eating out, Mummy, but keep me some dinner.’ I am a firm believer in keeping the fire lit in preparation for any eventuality. That is what a home is all about. The sacred flame of love should always be lit and the pots kept standing on the stove. Frankly, we enjoy eating. And I can say with some pride that I keep a good kitchen. As well as eating, we discuss what is happening in Brazil and in the world at large, we argue about the clothes we consider suitable for certain occasions. We are a real family.